My way back from the eating disorder

"You have to stop doing this! For you and for our child in your belly." That's what my partner told me over and over again, or something like that. We had just gotten together, I was getting pregnant virtually straight away. I had to stop hating my body, even hating myself. Because at that time I was vomiting after almost every meal. I suffered from this miserable disease called bulimia. I ate only to throw it up afterwards. Maybe you're wondering how that works and it would stand out, right? No, it doesn't. Those who are so sick find ways and means.

The eating disorder had followed me for many years, it started when I was about 14 years old. But I don't want to go into the causes here. It was a constant up and down. Years of self-hatred and self-destruction. Years of starvation and gluttony. Years of excessive sports and laxatives. Why am I writing about this now? Well, it's not easy for me, but I believe I'm not alone. I believe that there are so many people out there who feel the same way. I had experienced so many situations in my life that I could not control. So I wanted to control at least one thing: my weight. I lived for the number on the scale and for every calorie I didn't eat or if I did, I threw it back up.

It was like an addiction holding me tightly in its hands and I didn't notice how I was losing more and more control, when all I wanted was one thing: to be in control for once! I guess that went wrong. I didn't want to admit this to myself for a long time. I didn't want to admit that I had a problem, although deep inside I was well aware of it. I knew I should seek help, but I was too vain for that. Until I couldn't anymore. And my parents couldn't anymore. I talked about it in therapy, but once I made progress, it went back just as quickly. With me, it was all or nothing.

And then I got pregnant. What could I do? I wanted this child, I loved and love this child inside me. But the addiction was strong. So I had to fight every day. The nausea in the first months of pregnancy did not make it easy for me. But I had made up my mind: I would never stick my finger down my throat again! I was going to fight this monster inside me that was telling me I had to do this. Whenever I felt sick, I wanted to stick my finger down my throat. But I actually never did it again until today. Gaining weight during pregnancy was also torture. And yet I loved that growing belly with my, with our baby, in it. I was lucky to have a man by my side who listened to me. He couldn't comprehend much of what I was telling, it sounded so abstract. But it's not easy to understand either.... How can someone hate himself so much that he destroys his body in search of perfection? In search of a perfection that doesn't exist, I've realized that by now.

But I couldn't have done it alone. I had and still have a partner who listened to me. And that even though he couldn't understand or comprehend some of it. He had to tell me again and again that everything is fine, that I am beautiful the way I am, even if I gain weight. He told me that he loved me more every day, that the growing belly made me more beautiful every day. The more I heard that, the more I believed it myself. I still felt the need to vomit every once in a while when I felt I had eaten too much. But I didn't. I didn't. I wanted to be stronger than this wretched addiction. I wanted to accept the body, maybe even love it at some point, because it made this life grow inside me.

In the meantime I don't worry about food anymore. I eat whatever I feel like, and it's not necessarily just vegetables or fruit. No, I love chips, ice cream and chocolate. When I see people with eating disorders, it sometimes makes me angry, sometimes sad. I would like to tell them what they are doing to themselves. But I know it wouldn't do any good. Just as it never did me any good when someone told me. Today I can say that I have managed to do what almost no one would have thought I could do a few years ago. I probably wouldn't have believed it myself back then either.

I could no longer imagine a life without the eating disorder. I was once told that I could get better, but that every meal would be a struggle. It isn't. Eating is no longer a struggle for me. I love to eat. I love to eat, but at the same time, I now feel again when my body is telling me that enough is enough. I can feel again when I'm hungry or when I'm full. I couldn't do that for a very long time. I'm not always completely satisfied with my body, but I'm on a good path.

And so my son and my partner have brought me out of that depth. They have accompanied me on my way back to life and for that I am very grateful.

The pictures were taken by picarts (Benedikt Krahl). Many thanks for that!